Finding Brutus

Why is it that no matter when I deal financially in the automobile industry, I can’t help but feel like I’m getting screwed over, or at least not the best deal? I don’t care what it is: buying a new car, getting something fixed, dealing with state taxes and title/registration, all of it. It always seems like the cost you expect is not the deal you end up with.

I recently went in a road trip to Weiser, Idaho, spending nearly eight driving hours, for what seemed like a screaming deal on a new 2018 Ram 3500 DRW Laramie. Now, I subscribe to the never buy a new vehicle philosophy- and would never consider paying this much for a vehicle – but the this truck is literally going to be an extension of our home! I was also amply warned that some kind of slight scam would most likely take place given the history of dealers on the Idaho side of the border, but I went for it anyway. In the end, I was slightly short changed on the Avalanche’s trade-in value, but I do believe the overall price was a good deal. I was able to drive away with a new truck that has its own warranty bumper-to-bumper for five years at a fair rate. I can rest calmly and drive safe with the peace of mind that my family will be protected for the next five years of our journey at the very least.

Goodbye GBH (the Avalanche was named after the Great Blue Heron), Welcome to the family, Brutus!

This thing is an absolute beast! He’s got all the comforts, bells and whistle’s inside, and certainly the power underneath. Our towing capacity in this truck is right where we need it to be given the 5th wheel we are considering. Fully loaded, this truck will be just fine. To be fair, I’ve always referred to my vehicles as she, but this hulk of a truck is going to be our workhorse, our protector on our journey. He is Brutus.

I am sure I’ll write about Brutus in greater detail as he earns his stripes through bumps and bruises, however for the remainder of this post, I’d like to share more about the experience of finding him.

In an effort to make the trip to find Brutus more of an adventure, I had decided to camp after making the truck purchase, and in so doing, save myself from driving fatigue. Through researching blogs and websites, I had come across Juntura hot springs in Juntura, Oregon. It had been at least 6 years since I had last soaked in a natural hot spring, so I got the itch when I found this place. From the research I compiled within five minute chunks of time leading up to departure, I could tell this could be a special experience. Described as natural hot springs on the edge of the Malheur River, accessible by driving just a short drive off the highway on BLM land, this sounded like the perfect short adventure for Brutus and I.

There were two variables I was unsure on when approaching this adventure. The first were the roads: all descriptions I read regarding the access road were preceded by the “conditions can vary, and may not be passable”. The other was a big one: you have to forge the river to get to the hot springs. This is no problem in the summer or fall, only shin deep, but in spring can be dangerous. Dang it – it was April 26, and we had had a good snow pack, with recent good rains. I was smart and checked the current flow rate of the Malheur. Sure enough, the flow was near 4x the normal rate – dang again. Yet again, I was smart and remembered my life vest, and would find a long sturdy stick when I got there. Fool proof!

The vehicle purchasing process took its sweet time, and ended up favorable, however by the time I hit the road, the sun was setting fast. This made both variables a little more intense. It was a beautiful hour and a half ride to the turn off for the hot spring. By the time I got there, the sun had set behind the hills already. There was just enough light to make my way onto the access roads, so I started to explore. It felt so wrong and risky, yet at the same time, so right to buy a truck and within two hours get some mud on his tires.

Racing the sun along the Malheur River to Juntura Springs

Trying to pick my way through the brush on this rough road, basing my decisions on what I could recall of a blog’s description with the darkness quickly thickening, I missed the correct turn off. The road I was on was rough, as I knew it would be from my research, however it just continued to wind and go uphill. The last time I checked, rivers don’t run uphill (I’m a genius, I know). By now I was on somewhat of a ridge, with a brand new 3500 long bed truck – really bigger than anything I have driven before – and I had to three point turn him to go back down. In the dark. Nailed it.

Getting down off the hill led me to my wrong turn, and I was able to find what was most likely the spot I was searching for, and would have to do as a camp spot. There was still that unsettled feeling in my stomach created by being in the middle of southeastern Oregon not knowing if I was in BLM or someone’s property who would likely own a lot of guns. My worries were put to ease somewhat by the glimmer of the river just off the bank below, and what looked like steam just across it as I my eyes adjusted to the dark. So I quickly located that long stick, tossed on my life vest and…. no, no I didn’t. The hot springs would still be there in the morning.

I proceeded to set up camp with my little backpacking tent on what I could find for level ground with my head lamp. I located my twin size air mattress and 12 V electrical air compressor. You know, the Coleman type that plugs into the cigarette lighter in your car. However, when I went to go plug it in, the 12 volt plug in was nowhere to be found! No! How could this be? This truck has everything from USB inputs and even a legit three pronged 115 converter! You name it, this truck has it. But I couldn’t find a 12 V accessory plug in – are you kidding? I was counting on this. This was going to be a long night – of blowing up the mattress by mouth? Or should I sleep on the ground? In the truck awkwardly? My back was beginning to ache just thinking about this possibility. I held out hope, searching for while longer, and began to accept that vehicles this new don’t come with those options because smoking is so rightfully discouraged these days. Oh, man – my back! Out of one last act of desperation, yet controlling my breathing as I prepared to inflate my air mattress by mouth, I checked one last nook in the center console and voila! There it was! Crisis adverted – seriously, these things are important after thirty. I was able to efficiently inflate the air mattress to complete the set up my tent. I then lowered the tailgate for my seat and had my dinner – yummy, cold dinner left overs from the night before – as the stars came began to grow in number.

I could tell there were some campers across the river, hearing the light neighing and snorting of horses along with the glow of a campfire against the hillside. I laid back in the bed of the new truck and allowed myself to breathe while I took in a brilliant, clear night sky landscape before me. There really is nothing like a moonless night stargazing without clouds in the middle of a high desert far away from light pollution. The brilliance and volume of the stars is mind-boggling. If you’ve never had the chance to observe this, put it on your bucket list: Be quiet, and become absorbed in a celestial explosion.

By the time I laid my down on my (inflated) mattress to fall sleep, it didn’t take long to find a solid, deep snooze. But son of a gun, somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, maybe three, three thirty am, came the sound of a diesel truck approaching. Opening my eyes, I saw the headlights from the truck move over my tent. Honestly, that is the last thing you want to be woken by in the middle of the night – in the middle of nowhere, unsure if you are on public or private land. Well, that got my heart going – goodbye sleep for a while. The engine turned off – so, I got up and checked the surroundings within light of my headlamp, an no visitors close enough at that point. So I crawled back in the tent spending a good chunk of time unsure if I was dreaming, or hearing footsteps approaching. Weird feeling.

The next thing I knew, I woke at first light to the honking of geese nearby, and decided it was time to get up. I’d at least gotten a couple hours of warm, comfortable sleep, so I began to plan my approach of forging the river. I figured drying off and getting into the warm truck as soon as I returned to the truck would be my best bet. In effort to make that effecient, I began to back things up. Within less than 10 minutes of packing up my sleeping bag, personal belongings and mattress, and starting to take the rain fly off the tent, I realized my fingers were becoming numb. And what is this? Frost coating the under surface of the rain fly?

The NEIGH-bors (see what I did there?), the beckoning steamy springs, and frost on my rain fly?

The landscape before me as the sun began to rise was brilliant. I saw the springs across the river, on the island created by the diverging Malheur, steaming away – beckoning, almost taunting. I wandered closer to the river and figured I would be up near my chest if I chose to wade, and considered my options. The thought of undressing to my skivvies, putting my life vest on, and forging into a river flush with snow melt, at a very uncertain depth, quickly sounded too stupid to try. Dang. If I ever have a reason to come back this way – I’ll be sure to make it closer to fall time!

After I packed up to leave for the day and begin my drive home, I searched the surrounding area in an effort to figure out how I was going to turn this massive vehicle around. From the pictures, it appears I was in a massive field, but in reality, the road was narrow and rough, and the terrain was extremely rocky. Not small rocks – like too big to pick up boulders strewn about hidden in holes or waist high sagebrush. I figured I could make a three point turn backing up hill, which I made a successfully. Then I had to make a tight tight right turn to avoid the cattle fence in front of me. When I figured I had just enough room to clear the fence, I let a little off the break….. and CRUNCH! Oh… oh no…My stomach went sour. Are you kidding me? I got out to observe what it was that I had hit and sure enough it a large rock hiding right behind some sagebrush!! The exact thing I was preparing to avoid! It ripped the center cap off the front wheel and put the first scratch and ding on the under surface of the truck front passenger side. I can replace the center cap (and I did), and there was no structural damage, just some scrapes mostly covered up by the running boards I installed. However, sickness is due to the fact that this is the second most expensive investment I’ve made other than my house. And to give Brutus his first ding within only twelve hours of owning him? Hold on…getting nauseous again.

Yeah I’m going to live with this one for a while. Daddy can’t get mad at the next bump or scratch because he put the first one there!!! Yadda, yadda. Big sigh. Hey, it’s a truck, he’s got work to do, and is going to have plenty of marks to prove it. The first always hurts the worse, right? I just got it over with quickly I suppose. In the end, it’s all just things. As long as those I care about our protected and stay safe, it’s a win. Brutus, I look forward to doing the journey with you, sir. Please keep my family safe.